


Keeping Score

by PrincessMisery86



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Cheating, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Language, Mutual Pining, Smangst, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMisery86/pseuds/PrincessMisery86
Summary: Sam and Leigh seek each other’s company when frustrations reach a boiling point and need a certain form of release only the other can offer. Though it’s never as simple as that.Warnings: SMANGST!! Smut, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst that doesn’t get resolved, mutual pining, affairs, cheating, language.Song & Artist: Keeping Score - Dan + Shay ft. Kelly ClarksonNotes: This is total smangst which wasn’t my intention but the angst is my favourite part, go figure?!Characters: Sam Winchester, OFC - Leigh.Pairing: Sam x OFC (Leigh)
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Princess Misery A-Z Song Fic Challenge





	Keeping Score

**Author's Note:**

> Hey and welcome! So to make long story short, I have progressive hearing loss in my left ear (I have lost 80% of my hearing so far.) Docs say my right ear will also start to deteriorate, there’s no explanation for it and it’s irreversible. I’m not looking for sympathy, it is what it is. But it does mean I have been listening to a shit ton of music lately, every chance I get, which is sparking inspiration for fics. So I’ve set myself a challenge (thanks for the idea @negans-lucille-tblr and @firefly-in-darkness) to write a fic based on a song for every letter of the alphabet.   
Notes:  
I have a few ideas already but don’t have any set completion date, I will write and post as they come to me.   
Fics will more than likely be for Supernatural or Jensen/Jared but will make sure to label accordingly.   
There’s no specific music genre - I listen to everything, rock, pop, hip hop, r’n’b, rap, dance, metal, house, garage, I will listen to anything if I like it.   
Welcome to send me some ideas.   
It may be a whole song that I take inspiration from or just a certain line or lines. Lyrics will be in each post.   
Posting to Tumblr too - @PrincessMisery666

**Keeping Score**

Leigh’s name flashed on Sam’s caller I.D., and he paused the show on his laptop to answer. A knowing, albeit smug smile danced on his lips, “Hey you.” 

“Hey yourself, Winchester,” she drawled, almost in a whisper. 

Her sultry voice sent a shiver through him that culminated in his cock with the familiar stir of longing; flashbacks of times when that longing had been sated played in his mind. 

He didn’t need to ask, he knew what her call meant, what most of her late-night calls meant but he asked regardless, “I know that voice. This isn’t a social call, is it?” 

She laughed, “Sam Winchester, are you implying I only call you for one thing?”

They had known each other most of their lives. John and her Dad had hunted together a few times, leaving Leigh with Sam and Dean. They crossed paths when Sam had joined Dean on the road, helped each other on hunts. She had run with him and the Campbell’s for a while, and after a night of heavy drinking, they had fallen into bed together. 

Sam smirked, unable to keep it from his voice, “Well I know you’re not calling to discuss the unusual amount of rain we’ve been having lately,” he teased.

After Sam regained his soul, he’d been mortified at the things they had done, the things he’d done to her. He’d tracked her down and apologized profusely, begged her to forgive him. Leigh had admitted he’d awoken something in her she couldn’t quash and quite frankly didn’t want to. 

She liked that side of her and craved for Sam to be the one to bring it out of her. Sam was the only one who knew what she liked, how to get her to reach the heights of pleasure that made her pass out; make her hungry for him, even when his cock was buried in her, his hand wrapped around her throat, fingers digging into her flesh. 

Sam couldn’t deny that the memories he had of Leigh when he was soulless excited him, so following her confession, they sought each other’s company when frustrations reached a boiling point, and they needed a certain form of release only the other could offer. If he’d had his way, he’d blow her mind daily. He had yet to find something she wasn’t willing to try. They spent hours discovering new and wonderful and sometimes painful ways to please one another, though it didn’t happen as often as Sam would have liked. 

She was out of the business now. A rough hunt that took the lives of three children and saw her laid up in the hospital for six weeks had been her breaking point. Her new life ran on a schedule, civilian time, so it was hard to find a window when they were both free. 

Her laughter quieted, and he could envision her chewing the nail of the little finger of her hand that held the phone. He adjusted his ever-tightening pants and asked, “When?”

“Day after tomorrow.” 

“Send me the address.” 

“Night, Sam,” she practically sang. 

To keep his excitement at bay and his voice level, he cleared his throat, “Night Leigh.” 

* * *

_202\. 204. 206_. Sam checked the brass numbers on the hotel doors as he strolled the corridor. Leigh had picked a nice place this time, plush and upmarket. Her bonus check from work must have come in. 

There, 208. The numbers themselves excited him. He knew what delights the night held, those purple panties (her favorite color) that she would be wearing on the other side of the door. He’d been thinking about it for two days, ever since she’d called him. His cock had twitched just seeing her name on the caller I.D. It inspired many memories. All he’d thought about since was tasting her, feeling her writhe beneath him, hearing her scream his name, begging him to fuck her harder. 

He knocked on the mahogany door in their long-forged code, three short sharp taps followed by a harder fourth. He braced his arms on either side of the frame, staring down at the thick beige carpet beneath his boots. He liked to drink her in, be surprised by whatever ensemble she chose for him as he gradually dragged his eyes up her frame. 

The door opened, and it took all of Sam’s willpower not to let his eyes snap up straight to her face, or to take a step and entrap her against the wall. He wanted to tease her, liked to watch her come undone, wither and plead with him while he took his time. 

Her tanned legs were bare as he allowed his eyes to glide up. The white lace of her panties made him involuntarily trap his bottom lip between his teeth. He was jealous that the snug fabric got to hug her thick thighs. The matching bra that her ample boobs looked ready to spill from pulled a rumbling groan from deep within his chest.

The white against her sun-kissed skin popped. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said she looked virginal. Her dark brown hair hung in loose waves over her shoulder. He met her eyes and the smug smirk she wore told him she was in the mood to be ravished, and any thought of her playing the innocent virgin or him taking his time disappeared. 

He crossed the threshold and lost any thoughts of teasing when she bunched his shirt in her fist and yanked him toward her. Sam gave her what she wanted. He crushed his lips to hers, trapped her against the wall with his body flush against hers. 

Their tongues took their time to get reacquainted. It had been a while, and they exchanged happy exhales in each other’s mouths. Leigh’s free hand unbuttoned his jeans, but Sam grabbed both her arms and pinned her wrists to the wall above her head, used his larger one as a handcuff. “Tell me what you need,” he demanded pulling back from her lips to look at her. He knew that she was at his mercy, that she wanted him in every way imaginable, wanted him to take her in whatever way he saw fit, but he liked to hear the words. 

“I need,” she started, tried to wriggle her hands from his grasp.

“Ah-ah,” he warned, shoving her hands back into the wall. 

She glared at him; her top lip pulled up in a small snarl, she wanted to misbehave because she knew the punishment he’d dish out would be delicious. “I _need_ the neighbors to complain.”

He grinned wide in approval, “That’s my girl,” and ran his middle finger across her bottom lip.

Her tongue darted out and licked the tip before he pushed it past her teeth, and she puckered her lips around it. She kept her eyes locked to him, sucking his finger hungrily. He knew a soft touch wouldn’t be enough for her this time. 

Sam lowered to his knees, dragging the finger from her mouth down her throat, through the valley of her breasts and hooked into the top of her panties. 

“These look expensive,” he assessed, looking up at her. 

“They were,” she agreed cautiously, knowing all too well the glint in his eye meant trouble, “so don’t get any ideas.” 

Sam cocked a brow, “Who’s in charge here?” She held his gaze but refused to answer. “Don’t get all tongue-tied on me now,” he demanded, gripping the lace fabric in both of his hands. 

She chewed her lip, and he pulled, creating a small tear. 

“You are!” She answered quickly, putting her hands atop his to stop him from ripping the garment completely. “You’re in charge, Sam.” 

Pleased with her compliance, he loosened his grip but pulled her panties aside and ran a finger between her folds. He felt her wetness and stilled his finger just shy of her entrance. 

“You started without me,” Sam chastised, though his raised brow and small smirk showed the opposite of his tone. The thought of her playing without him intrigued him. 

She pulled her lip between her teeth, “You know the effect you have on me,” she shrugged one shoulder, unphased by his disapproval. “I can’t help myself.”

He inhaled deeply ready to scold her, but the scent of her arousal overwhelmed him, and he dove at her. He gripped her left knee and threw it over his shoulder. His tongue swirled over her clit, and she hissed as his teeth grazed it. 

Her hands tangled in his hair and she tugged, hard. Sam growled into her, and she bucked her hips, forced her pussy further into his face. He licked a line down and back up, circling her throbbing nub. 

“Fuck, Sam,” she whined, pushed her back into the wall and used the leverage to put her other leg over his shoulder. 

His tongue devoured her, flicked and sucked, circled and swirled. Her moans became longer, her hips rocked back and forth, and Sam had to grab her waist with both hands to stop her from falling when her orgasm hit, and she was no longer able to keep her body tensed against the wall. 

Leigh dropped her feet to the floor, and Sam ran his hands up her body as he stood to his full height. 

“That’s one,” he commented as he dipped to kiss the throbbing vein on her neck. He could feel her quickened pulse under his tongue, but he knew he could get it to beat faster. The challenge thrilled him. “I’m going for the record tonight.”

She hummed into his mouth, and her tang on his tongue turned her on more. She squeezed her thighs together, and her empty channel clenched around nothing. “What do you have in mind?” 

He pulled back, brushed some stray hairs from her face, “I want double figures,” he confessed. Sam brushed his nose against hers, teased another kiss but spoke so his lips ghosted hers, “within the hour. I want you so fucked out that you don’t remember your own name.” 

“Well, we better get started,” she agreed, titillated by his words. 

Sam hoisted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.

* * *

Leigh clawed at Sam. Manicured nails scratched his flesh. Sam hissed and arched his back, pounded deeper into her. She dug her heels into his ass, used him as leverage to meet his every fuck into her wanting cunt. 

“How is it fair you get to mark me up,” started Sam, nibbling her ear lobe, “but I can’t do the same to you?” 

“Believe me…” She whimpered and had to pause to catch her breath as he slammed his hips into her. “…you leave bruises on the inside.”

It wasn’t a lie. Sam’s cock poked at her cervix. Every thrust, she’d feel a jolt of pain, and then he’d drag back, and it would be gone. Then he’d hit home again, and the sensation would almost become too much. She’d feel it for days after. Every time she moved a certain way, a stab of pain would trigger a memory of their time together. She eagerly looked forward to it. 

Sam had broken his record; she’d peaked ten times. The first three orgasms he’d pulled out of her with his tongue, the next two with his tongue and fingers, the following five he’d taken from her with his cock. With each one, she mewled louder and longer, and it only served to spur him on. 

He could feel the wetness as it dripped between their bodies. The mattress was probably soaked through, but he didn’t care. She was beautiful beneath him, hair sweat-soaked, cheeks flushed. Leigh gasped intermittently, and her inability to form the words she sought to scream made him drive into her faster. 

“FUCK, SAM! HARDER!”

A bang on the wall gained a devilish smirk from her, and it did Sam in. He changed position, wanted to go deeper and harder like she had asked. One hand braced on the bed, he lifted her leg so it was over his shoulder. He nipped at her ankle as he relentlessly screwed her. 

He ogled her. Her breasts bounced every time his hips crashed into hers. She grabbed the left, kneaded it roughly, and licked her lips. “Sam, oh god, S–am.” 

“I got you,” he assured her, knowing her tone meant she was climbing to number eleven. “I got you, baby, cum for me.” 

“Mercy, mercy!” she cried as her eleventh climax erupted deep in her core. Her back arched and she grabbed the top of the headboard, half crawled up the bed. “Sam, mercy!”

Mercy meant she couldn’t take it anymore, she needed him to cum, and he was more than happy to oblige. It had become almost painful to hold back. He dropped her leg and kissed her, and she bit his bottom lip as her pussy continued to clench around him. He pumped two more times before he let go. 

Sam twitched as the sensitivity of her clenching cunt milked his dick for every last drop of his orgasm. He collapsed onto the bed next to her. 

Between laboured breaths, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Leigh nodded, her eyes closed, almost as if she were dreaming. She ran her hands from her thighs up her body, paid close attention to her breasts. She moaned as her own hands groped. Sam was mesmerized, she got like this sometimes. 

Sex drunk almost to the point of delirium, the stress and frustration of her life overwhelmed her, and though Sam had provided her with what she had craved, she wasn’t ready to come down from the high. She turned on her side, pulled Sam’s hand from the bed and placed it on her breast. She massaged her hand over his, encouraged him to continue as she leant over him to claim his mouth.

Leigh straddled him and was the first to break away, to leave hot wet kisses on his cheek, jaw, neck. She descended his body, sucked his nipple into her warm mouth, scraped her teeth over his hip bone. He felt her breath over his cock. 

“Leigh, what’re-” He didn’t get to finish the question, she’d taken all of him in her mouth. “_Jesus-fuckin’-christ_!”

He jerked his hips, and his cock twitched, becoming semi-hard again as she greedily lapped up their combined juices. 

“Oh fuck, Leigh,” murmured Sam. He tangled her hair around his fist and tugged, an effort to coax her back up to his lips. He was spent, he needed a minute to recover, but then she moaned deep in her throat, and his dick stood at full attention. He knew he wasn’t going to get it. 

“Whatever’s gotten into you, I like it.” He moaned, his head hit the pillow with a thud, and he had no choice but to accept he was now at her mercy.

* * *

Sam used an elbow to prop himself up on the bed and watched Leigh brush her teeth in the en-suite bathroom. He hated this part. The white lace bra and pantie set from the night before had been replaced by simple red panties and a pretty black bra. She looked just as good, despite only getting an hour or so of sleep and being completely and pleasantly disheveled hours before, she looked amazing. The afterglow of sex radiated from her, and she oozed sex appeal, but Sam knew playtime was over.

He thought it was funny how everything changed yet remained the same. He’d discovered a new addiction; she was a weakness, he just hadn’t realized how intense her intoxication went until she was gazing up at him with lust blown pupils, sweat-soaked hair, and a gentle hand on his cheek. Or maybe he had, but hadn’t admitted it to himself until that moment. 

Their relationship felt like a boomerang. They’d throw it away when they were done teasing pleasure filled cries from one another, but they always came back around. It seemed they were addicted to the addiction.

“Can I ask you something?” he blurted out as she exited the bathroom and switched off the light. 

Leigh froze with her hand on the light switch, but smirked, “Sounds serious.”

“Does it help?” 

“Does what, help?” she asked, crawling on all fours up the bed toward him. 

He inclined his head to the nightstand. Though she already knew what he was referring to, her eyes zeroed in on the offending object anyway. 

“Does it help? Taking it off?” he questioned, seeing her stare at her wedding rings. They laid discarded yet seemed to pulse like a beacon against the dark wood, a gleaming highlight of the betrayal they were acting upon. 

Leigh had never lied about her relationship status. She told Sam about every milestone–first date, first time she’d slept with him, when she moved in with Tom, the proposal, engagement and wedding–to give Sam every opportunity to walk away because she couldn’t, she was weak when it came to him.

Her chin dropped to her chest, her eyes unable to meet his, “You really want me to answer that?” 

Sam had always had a curious mind, and he wasn’t asking to be a dick, he genuinely wanted to know. “You don’t have to. I get it if I’m crossing a line.”

She scoffed, he’d had her body in ways she could barely describe. Arguably he knew her body better than she did, yet he thought a simple question was crossing a line. 

She changed the intended destination of her ascent and flopped down beside him, a vehement exhale huffed out as she bounced on the mattress. “Yes, taking it off helps,” she told him as if she regretted that it did. 

“Do you ever feel guilty?”

“Every time,” she confessed to the ceiling, unwilling to meet his eyes, her frown woven with the aforementioned guilt. “From the moment I call you until the moment I look in your eyes, I feel terrible.”

He ran a hand over her stomach and gripped her hip, pulling her into him, in part to comfort her, to ease her regret, and in part because she wasn’t close enough. “So why do you keep coming back to me?” 

“Sam, if you want to stop-” 

He kissed her negative thoughts away, “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

He loomed over her, and his expression was apologetic but expectant. He needed to know why. Wanted to understand why she put herself through the stress he knew their affair caused her. He hated the word. _Affair_. Every time it crossed his mind, he internally cowered. He despised being the other man, not only because he felt he had a claim to her–he’d known her first after all, and he knew her in ways no one else ever would–but because he disliked sharing her. 

She sat up, unable to look at his wretched expression. He drew circles on the small of her back, watched the skin fade from white back to tan under his fingertip. She sighed, and he knew without being able to see her face that she’d closed her eyes. 

“I keep coming back to you because I can’t quit you, Sam.” Her hands laced in her hair. She held them at the back of her neck and gazed up at the fancy chandelier. “And I don’t mean just the sex. It’s more than that.”

His finger stalled. Though she’d spoken softly, her words were laced with emotion. He felt it was more than sex too; if they couldn’t find the time to meet, they at least found the time to talk–calls, texts, sometimes e-mails. He marveled at her mind just as much as at her body. He waited for her to continue, didn’t want to interrupt for fear she’d shut down, but the silence prevailed. 

“So what is it, if it’s not just sex?”

Her breath hitched, and for what felt like an eternity, the room was silent. He sat up and stroked a hand down her back as if to coax the conversation from her. 

She turned her head to him. Her eyes begged him and her voice echoed with the same imploring tone, “Don’t make me say it.”

He pulled her into him and kissed her temple, lingered for a long moment with his lips pressed to her skin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bought it up.” 

He pulled back but kept his hand on her cheek to hold her eyes to his. He knew if he dropped his hand, the shame he had ignited in her would cause her to avert her eyes.

“You have every right to bring it up, Sam.” Wistfully Leigh smiled, and her eyes dipped from his understanding gentle stare to his chest and back again. “I don’t just feel guilty toward _him_. I hate doing this to you, too, but I can’t stay away.” 

“And I don’t want you to,” he confessed, drawing her mouth to his. 

He slipped his tongue between her lips, and she breathed into him. He felt it. The satisfied, desire-filled exhale was more than her relief that he wanted her as much she wanted him. It spoke the words she’d been reluctant to say, told him the things she had asked him not to make her admit.

She was the first to pull away to rest her forehead against his and catch her breath with her eyes still closed. He heaved in deep breaths more to keep himself from confessing his emotions than from the need to fill his lungs. 

“Leigh, if being a hunter has taught me anything, it’s that I don’t know how many sunsets I have left, and I don’t wanna ruin this moment, or any others we get to have, by wondering what comes next or complicating whatever this is.” 

“Me neither, so let’s not keep score of the moments. Can we just live in them?” 

Sam nodded slightly, head still pressed against hers. “We will,” he murmured, and he sincerely meant it. 

If he got the chance again–and god, he hoped he would–he was going to take things nice and slow. He would worship her body, hold her as close as he could, and love her like it was all he was living for because he knew now that’s what he felt. 

Sam sighed, relieved that his true feelings had been realized, but the feeling was bittersweet because he couldn’t tell her, couldn’t be the one she went home to. 

“We will,” he promised firmer than the last time, “next time.”

* * *

**Lyrics for inspo (not all lyrics)**

I know I’m only human

Don’t know how many sunsets I got left

And I don’t wanna ruin

This moment by wondering what comes next

I just want to love you

Like it’s all I’m living for

Hold you close, enjoy you more

And spend a little less time keeping score

So, baby, I’d rather

Take tonight nice and slow.


End file.
